Nobody There
by AlwaysLove
Summary: She sat in her bedroom. All alone. She preferred it that way. Everything was better alone. Nobody around to intrude into her innermost thoughts. Nobody to bother her with their problems. Nobody to reprimand her. Nobody there. Hermione's POV


Okay. Well, I'd just like to inform you that this is quite dark compared to my other story **Tough Love**. I wrote this randomly, and I hope you enjoy it and understand its meaning and everything. It's in Hermione's POV. 

**Nobody There**

She sat in her bedroom. All alone. She preferred it that way. Everything was better alone. Nobody around to intrude into her innermost thoughts. Nobody to bother her with their problems. Nobody to reprimand her.

Nobody _there_.

But it wasn't always this way. She hadn't always wanted loneliness. Who would honestly wish for solitude and isolation? That's what she asked herself, when things were better. But it's a clear statement, not at all a question. Who would ask to be alone, instead of basking in the company of her family and friends?

She would.

She had always been the attention craving child, who had prominently did everything she possibly could to catch attention to herself. She was the star. The speck of gold in the mixture of silver. She used her brains and beauty to her advantage. She needed all the love and attention possible to be fulfilled. She was insecure, otherwise.

What changed?

It was always the same old same old. 'What a genius daughter you have' 'Wow, your kid's so adorable' 'She's so pretty, not to mention smart'. It got boring. All they saw of her was a little girl who was seemingly happy with an ear-to-ear smile plastered on her face. It _was_ that way, until it _seemed_ that way. But _nothing_ is ever as it seems.

Or so the saying goes.

She just woke up one morning, and out of the blue, she had this tug inside her. It was a terrible tug. It was dragging her insides out. All of a sudden, she wanted to cry. She choked on her tears, holding them back in with as much effort possible. But her eyes gave in. Tears, _hot tears_, burned her face as they came flowing out defiantly.

She couldn't stop it.

With her many attempts at drying the tears, she gave up, as they were falling incessantly despite her rebellion. She sat under her bed sheets, hidden, and crying her eyes out. It was a rare occurrence that she lost control of herself like this. She was always strong. She had always looked to tears as a sorry excuse to drown in self-pity. But here she was. Drowning in self-pity.

She didn't even know why.

Quietly sniffling in the comforts of her bed in her room, she heard someone approaching. She recognized the squeaky step of the stairs. And just like that, her tears stopped. She quickly dried her eyes, muttering 'stupid PMS' in the process, as she pretended to be asleep. She didn't know why her tears stopped so suddenly when she heard someone coming, but refused to stop when she asked them to.

She still doesn't know.

All she knew know was that she preferred to be alone. Away from the speculations of others. Away from the spotlight, the attention. Away from her books and schoolwork. Away from everyone. Emotionally away, but not physically away. She still needed her friends and family with her. Even though she felt distant from them, like only half of her was present.

Distant.

She knew what that was. She looked into the reflection her potion gave in the middle of class one day, and something popped into her mind. 'Objects are farther than they appear'. She felt like she was looking through the wrong side of the telescope. She looked exactly like herself, but smaller, and distant.

It could be told by her eyes.

Her eyes had always been a brown color that was watery and almost translucent. You could almost see into her emotions. Almost, didn't mean anybody could. But as time passed, her eyes changed, along with everything around her. Her eyes lost its watery gleam, but they were in fact stone cold, like the little pond had frozen. Its translucency seemed like it never even existed.

Not even a little.

She didn't even notice any form of change, herself. Change came gradually, and when her guard was down, it hit her all at once. Forcefully branding itself into her head, her mind. The impact killed her. On the inside, that is. But death isn't the end. The end is when everything is over. Like the apocalypse. Well, at least that was the way she defined it.

The apocalypse of her own world.

That's how it was for her. Always an ongoing fight, mentally, to reassure herself that everything was fine. That she didn't need anybody. She had herself. And all anybody needed was themselves. She knew she was lying to herself, but lies have always been easier then facing the truth.

Facing reality.

She hated confrontation, and she made it perfectly clear to everybody that she did. She prefers to live life completely clueless, as opposed to knowing the truth. It put more magic into her world. Not that being at Hogwarts meant she needed more magic. Living in denial made it easier for her imagination to run off and create her a perfect world.

That was her way.

Whenever she's alone, she has her own space. Her own thinking space. Brooding space. Whatever she wants to call it. She understands herself better when she was alone, with nobody around. Nobody around to intrude into her innermost thoughts. Nobody around to bother her with their problems. Nobody to reprimand her.

Nobody there.

-:-

Did you like it? It's different, I know. But **REVIEW **anyways. I need a second opinion for this.


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